Hamilton Swoop, Wizard of Green Ridge (25 page)

BOOK: Hamilton Swoop, Wizard of Green Ridge
11.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"Why you...” Thalia began and then, realizing Hamilton was okay, continued, “you scared me half to death last night. What happened?"

Hamilton sat up slowly until his back rested against the bed. “How's Whiskers?"

"Back to being her old cantankerous self again, but what happened to you?"

Whiskers returned from the bathroom.
What do you mean, cantankerous? And who took my fish?

Hamilton reached out and scratched the cat's head. Then he looked back at Thalia and saying, “When you pull poison out it has to go somewhere. I figured that if the amount was small enough, I could deal with it."

"You pulled it into your body? You poisoned yourself to save the cat? What if the amount hadn't been small enough? Did you consider that?"

"Er, no, not really, but I didn't have any other options."

"Why wasn't she able to smell the poison?"

"I don't know. I guess some types of poison don't smell."

Hello! Cat here! Where's my fish?

* * * *

Will Beaumont was just closing his shop when Hamilton arrived. He looked up from behind the counter and his smile faded somewhat when he noticed that Hamilton was alone. “I wondered what happened to you. I was expecting you yesterday night—to test the crossbow.” He continued removing old pastries from his display cases.

"I'm sorry, but I had to go to Drayene. It was urgent. Is it ready for testing?"

"I got a few of my friends to help me out last night. It worked better than I expected it to. Drove several bolts deep into a stone wall at about 70 yards. Even better, every hit was within a yard of what I was aiming at.” He dragged a trash can full of unsold pastries from behind the counter.

"How's business?” asked Hamilton.

"What business? See this?” The baker kicked the trash can. “A few more days like this and I'll be living on pebble cakes. Stale pebble cakes at that.” He shook his head while dragging the can to the front of the store.

"Well, maybe we can improve business. Know of any abandoned buildings around here? One that is isolated would be best."

"That's not a problem. There are lots of abandoned buildings. More every day, what with people so afraid of the dragon."

Hamilton opened and held the door as the baker dragged the trash can outside. “I just need one. One not in very good shape as it's likely to be in worse shape when we're done."

Will dragged the can to the street and left it there. Then he looked back at Hamilton. “Yes. There's the old Shelly place. About two miles from here, surrounded by fields. Nobody's lived there in years."

"Sounds good. Can you set up your bow there, a bit before dawn?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Day after. I've got to go to the Guild tomorrow and then I've got to dig up the bait. What are your arrows made from?"

"Twelve foot spruce shafts with iron tips. Like I said, they'll go through stone."

"Is there a safe place nearby you can shoot from?"

"You mean some place to hide from an extremely irritated dragon?"

"Just in case. Yes,” replied Hamilton.

"You know, considering that you are a Guild wizard, you could sound a bit more confident.” He locked the door of the bakery.

"Well, considering that I've been a wizard for less than a month, I'm doing the best I can. A month ago, I was a shopkeeper in Green Ridge. It's not like I volunteered for this, er, assignment."

"But the Guild said that you were a great wizard. They announced that you were coming weeks before you showed up."

"Can't believe everything you hear I guess or maybe I'm not the one they were expecting. Who knows? But for now, it's just me and you against Thermite.” Hamilton rubbed the stubble on his chin. “How about showing me this weapon of yours?"

* * * *

When Hamilton got back to the Inn, it was late in the evening. Thalia greeted him at the door. Whiskers looked at him from the couch, but did not get up.
Was I really poisoned?

"Probably just a bad fish,” Thalia said.

"I agree. Fish that's loaded with kitric acid is a very bad fish,” Hamilton said as he pushed the cat off the couch and sat down.

But that would mean someone was trying to poison me!
Whiskers jumped up on a chair.
That's ridiculous! Who would want to do that?

Hamilton raised his hand. “I've considered it on more than one occasion."

Whiskers’ fur bristled.
What? Why?

"Why? The list is too long to remember all of the items on it.” Whiskers backed into the depths of the chair cushion. Hamilton watched her and then grinned. “Relax, cat. You know I wouldn't hurt you. What bothers me is that I don't know who tried to or why. Thalia was kidnapped. You were poisoned. Someone took out a contract on me. Seems like we're not all that popular around here."

Whiskers regarded Hamilton warily.
Then I vote that we leave.

"You don't have a vote. Besides, this stuff is starting to get under my skin. I lived in Green Ridge for almost sixty years and I never allowed anyone to push me around there. I'm too damn old to change my ways now."

Thalia sat down beside Hamilton. “How did you know it was kitric acid?"

"My piss, this morning, was blue. From now on, though, food that comes up here gets a good going over before anyone eats anything."

"Do you think Roscoe poisoned the fish?"

"No and I doubt that anyone working here had anything to do with it either. But from now on, we won't have to rely on Whiskers’ sense of smell. Now I can use magic to check the food."

"But who would want to poison your cat ... and why?” asked the girl.

Hamilton put his arm around Thalia's shoulder. “I don't know who. As to why? Maybe to encourage me to leave town?"

* * * *

Early the next day, Hamilton arrived at the Central City Guild. The other wizards entered in twos and threes. While they were arriving, Hamilton pulled Argus aside and asked him about note he received from Argus while he was in Drayene.

"A note? You were in Drayene? I don't think so. When did I send it?” The last was directed as much to himself as it was to Hamilton.

Hamilton pulled out the envelope he had received and extracted the letter. He unfolded it and offered it to Argus. Argus fumbled with his glasses and then squinted at the paper. Then he smiled. “No. I didn't write this. It's remarkable what a poor job of forgery this is. It doesn't look anything like my handwriting.” He paused for a moment and curled his lip in thought.

After a minute had passed Hamilton asked, “Do you recognize the handwriting?"

"The handwriting?"

"In the letter. This letter.” Hamilton pointed to the paper in Argus’ hand.

Argus looked at the letter like it had just materialized from nothing with a look of surprise on his face. “I'll need my glasses."

"You're wearing them."

"So I am.” Argus adjusted his glasses.

"Do you recognize the handwriting ... on the letter ... this letter?” Hamilton tried to hide his frustration as he once more pointed to the letter.

Argus examined the letter, readjusting his glasses several times. “No."

Hamilton repressed a desire to smack the old Runemaster for wasting his time. “Well, at least it wasn't you."

He turned to leave when Argus added, “But I do recognize the ink."

Hamilton did an immediate about face. “The ink?"

"It's called Terra Sangrum. Blood of the Earth. Wizards once used to use it almost exclusively for writing out spells, but that was a long time ago. It's made from rats’ blood and powdered clay. It was used to make quite an impression on the locals because they thought that it was the wizard's blood. When a wizard's pronouncement was written in Terra Sangrum ink, it was thought to me immutable. It's remarkable what some people will believe. Of course, that was before the Guild changed its image to something more benign."

Hamilton waited for more. When it became apparent that the Runemaster had nothing else to offer he asked, “Is there anyone at the Guild that still uses this ink?"

"Just Master Diamond."

That was the one answer that Hamilton did not want to hear. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then asked, “What do you know about Diamond?"

"Not a whole lot. He hasn't been here very long and he's young."

"But hasn't he been here over ten years?"

"Ten years? What year is it now?"

"'57,” Hamilton replied.

Argus stared at him with a blank expression.

"4257."

"Really? My goodness how time can slip away when you don't pay any attention to it! But that would be right then. He's been here about ten years—like I said—not very long. He arrived just before the brown plague hit. Nasty business."

"How good a wizard is he?"

"Hard to say. I've seen him do parlor tricks and pass them off as magic in front of local crowds. On the other hand, I've seen him do a few spells here at the Guild that I wouldn't even attempt. He's definitely got the talent but, for some reason, he keeps it to himself."

"What do you know about him as a person?"

"He's an adequate administrator, but I don't like him. And it's not just because he's so young. I can't put my finger on just why, but I don't trust him. He spends a lot of time lording it over the younger wizards and acolytes, but he's smart enough not to make trouble when it comes to the older, more experienced wizards. Do you think he wrote the letter?"

Thirty minutes later, Hamilton stood once more in the Guild hall in front of the assembled wizards. He frowned when he noticed that the Master Alchemist was missing. Then he looked at the faces of those about him trying to gauge their feelings toward him. Although he sensed some fear, he was grateful that he did not sense any direct hostility. What he sensed was expectation. He cleared his throat. “Before I speak of what has been occupying my time, I want to know what the members of the Guild have discovered. What news of Topaz? What news of the dragon? Master Diamond?"

Diamond stood. He glanced at the seated wizards, but when he spoke, he addressed Hamilton. “Several of the wizards have found evidence that there have been wagons of food leaving the city. There is a good chance that the cave that Acolyte Whimper located is where the provisions were delivered. The dragon, in the last week, has destroyed two more buildings and three locals were killed. Since you left, we have had no word about Topaz and he has not been seen. The local town's people, not just those in Norkon, have been moving out in greater numbers. Their attitude toward the Guild is increasingly hostile because we have not yet eliminated the dragon. If anyone can add anything, please do.” He sat.

Hamilton looked about the assemblage. No one had anything to add. “It's been a busy week for me. There was an attempt on my life and my assistant, Acolyte Thalia, was kidnapped. Fortunately, the assassin failed and Thalia is safe, however those events have occupied a significant amount of my time. On a more positive note, I have been working on a way of killing the dragon. However, I will require several more days before I can put my plan into action and there is, of course, no guarantee that it will work. I regret that I cannot explain further, but I fear that someone in this room may not be what they seem to be."

Hamilton glanced at the various expressions of indignation, surprise, shock and innocence on the faces of the wizards before continuing. “I have two questions. Does the expression ‘Sweet Crud’ mean anything to any of you?” The response was a uniform collection of blank stares.

"Has anyone ever heard of a magic user named Tummin?"

"Er, there was a man I knew of named Duos Tummin when I lived in Elysian about five years ago. He applied for Guild membership there, but was turned down,” offered an older wizard.

"Do you know why he was refused?” asked Hamilton.

"No. He had a reputation as a bit of a bully and, from what I heard, had used magic as an offensive weapon on more than one occasion, but I never met him so I can't say for sure."

"One more question then. I've been told several times now that a wizard was expected to come and kill Thermite weeks before I arrived. This was before I had the merest inkling that I would be coming to Central City. How did they get that impression?"

"That would have been my doing,” said an old wizard with a full beard who was seated next to Diamond."

"And you are?” asked Hamilton.

"Master Flint. I'm the Senior Visioner. Unfortunately, my vision was rather general in nature and I could not predict who would show up or when. Master Diamond sent out a half dozen summonses. You were the only one who responded."

Hamilton frowned as he had hoped for more from the group. “Well, that's all for now. Try to find out more about that cave. Have a watcher spell put on it. I'll be in contact with the Guild again soon."

Following the meeting, Hamilton accompanied Diamond back to his office. “You know,” he began as he sat before Diamond's desk, “I don't know if I can pull this off. I feel like I don't have enough information to work with."

"I'm sorry, Master Citrine. I realize that we have not been of much help. It's too bad that the Guild lost so many of the more venerable wizards to the plague. The younger wizards all mean well, but they lack experience."

"I know. It's a shame. However, I am curious about this cave that Whimper found. Could you write out some instructions on how I might find it?"

"I'd be happy to have our mapmaker draw you a map."

"No. Just some simple instructions will do."

"Certainly.” Diamond dipped his quill in a small bottle of Terra Sangrum and wrote out instructions on a piece of paper as he verbalized them. Then he handed the paper to Hamilton. “I would advise against going there alone, but I wish you well.” “Thank you, Guildmaster. I appreciate that.” Hamilton looked at the instructions and made an effort not to let his disappointment show. Though Diamond's ink appeared to be the same as that used on the note he had received in Drayene, it was obvious that the handwriting was different. Hamilton decided a change in direction was necessary. “Can I ask you a question, wizard to wizard?"

Other books

Dogs at the Perimeter by Madeleine Thien
A Nail Through the Heart by Timothy Hallinan
A Knight's Vow by Lindsay Townsend
Elemental Hunger by Johnson, Elana
Olivier by Philip Ziegler
The Tycoon Meets His Match by Barbara Benedict
Vanished by Callie Colors
Pole Position by H. M. Montes